


Twyla's Cafe Podcast, An Alexis Rose Production, Produced by Alexis Rose (with help from Twyla)

by whetherwoman



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alexis's horrifying stories, F/F, Twyla's horrifying stories, amazing things happen when you're just looking for air conditioning, vaguely season 3 ish, we're just pretending Ted doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whetherwoman/pseuds/whetherwoman
Summary: Twyla and Alexis start a podcast, and accidentally have some feelings along the way.
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Comments: 40
Kudos: 94
Collections: Elevate! A Schitt's Creek Femslash Exchange





	Twyla's Cafe Podcast, An Alexis Rose Production, Produced by Alexis Rose (with help from Twyla)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlylight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlylight/gifts).



Alexis hadn't thought it would become, you know, a thing. At least, not a thing for Alexis—she did totally mean for it to be a thing for Twyla, because Twyla needed more things. She had her job at the cafe, of course, but while "small town waitress" was totally a super cute look for her, it wasn't really a _thing_ , at least not a _thing_ kind of thing. Twyla clearly needed a thing, and Alexis was absolutely the person to find her thing, because that was Alexis's Girl Boss thing, finding other people's things and making sure their things got the attention they deserved. Obviously, Alexis hadn't thought it would somehow also become Alexis's thing.

But then, Alexis never did.

* * *

The air conditioning of the cafe felt good as Alexis slid into a seat at the counter. She pushed a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead and tried to catch her breath. "Hey Twy." She tapped a fingernail against the countertop as Twyla came over.

"Hey, Alexis," Twyla said, coming over with a smile and Alexis's usual glass of water. "Nice run today?"

"Oh, yeah, you know." Alexis waved dismissively as she gulped down half the glass. "Yeah, great run! Totally not too hot for me at all. It reminded me of Mexico City, actually, except I wasn't carrying twenty pounds of stolen raccoon pelts while being chased by five lucha libres. Honestly I think the memory made me run a little faster, though. Can I get another one?"

"Of course," Twyla said, pouring her a refill. She hadn't even put the water pitcher down. It was dewy with condensation. Alexis kind of wanted to grab it and rub her face on it. "This is a real heat wave, for sure. I don't think we've seen temperatures like this since I was a kid. Although there was that year we lived in the abandoned train car, and that got pretty warm in the summer—my mom used to throw eggs at the metal walls to fry them! But once we figured out how to open the train car door we got a nice breeze coming through. Smoothie today?"

"No, that's okay, Twy," Alexis said, fiddling with her ear buds. "I'm heading right back out again, thank you for the water." She was dreading leaving the cafe, honestly. The motel only had air conditioning on Tuesdays before 3pm, and while a subtle dewy glow was acceptable during a run, it was super not a good look to just sit around in her room sweating. She had to find somewhere else to go.

"Listening to anything good?" Twyla said.

"Oh, um, no," Alexis said, popping one into her ear. "I mean yes, it's this podcast actually, it's really—" She stopped, struck suddenly by the most genius idea. "Oh my god, Twy. Twyla, what if you did a podcast?"

"What?" Twyla said, blinking and laughing a little.

"No, seriously, oh my god, this will be great." A recording studio would be dark, and cool, and it would be totally normal to hang around at the cafe to talk to Twyla about the episodes. Problem solved. She leaned across the counter and grabbed Twyla's hand. "You have the greatest stories, and you're so funny, oh my god, you're going to be such a hit!"

"Um," Twyla said, trying to pull her hand out of Alexis's grip. "I—I don't know, I'm sure I'm not that—really? You like my stories?"

"Um, yeah!" Alexis squeezed Twyla's hand tighter. She had tiny freckles all over the back of her hand. Alexis made a mental note to loan Twyla her Le Labo hand cream."Twy, they're great. You're great. You're going to be great, come on, this is going to be so fun. The funnest!"

"Well, okay," Twyla said, and Alexis felt a flash of pride for her. Twyla was always such a sweet little chipmunk. "I guess it would be fun to do together."

"Yes!" Alexis said. She leaned in further. "Yes, Twy, so fun!"

"You have really good stories, too." Twyla shot her a sideways glance, almost shy. "I'm sure lots of people would love to—"

"Mm, no, gonna stop you right there." Alexis held up one finger firmly. "I am a strictly back of the house kind of girl. Okay," she added, to Twyla's extremely dubious look, "and front of the house, but visuals only! No audio. I don't do audio."

"Well, okay, if you think—"

"Plus? I am really good at audio editing. Like, _really_ good. I once had to edit a tape of Rahm Emmanuel and Melanie Griffith and make it sound like Ira Glass and Dolly Parton, so."

"Well," Twyla said, looking at Alexis thoughtfully. Alexis widened her eyes and tried to look trustworthy and encouraging, even though for some reason her eyes wanted to slide away from Twyla's clear eyes. She sometimes had a weird kind of feeling that Twyla could see right into her thoughts, or like her soul or something, but there was no way that was true because if it was Twyla would never say—

"I'm sure you'll do a great job, Alexis," Twyla said. 

The weird thing was that she looked like she believed it. 

"Um, yeah, I mean," Alexis laughed, finally letting herself look away. "Of course—of course I will! Okay, so this is going to be great, so like find us a recording studio, okay, and we can record the first episode, um, Monday, does Monday work for you? And don't forget to bring someone to interview! Okay bye, Twy, thanks so much, can't wait!"

She was out the door before Twyla could get out more than "Wait, what recording studio—" 

The heat of the air outside almost made her stagger. "Okay, Alexis," she said to herself, shaking out her arms. "You can do this. Gotta outrun those lucha libres." Grimly, she started to jog back to the motel.

* * *

The next day, Alexis showed up at the address Twyla had texted her. Well, it was more coordinates than an address, but with GPS it was practically the same thing. It wasn't like the time in 2006 when Alexis needed to get to the drop off point in Chile with only magnetized skeleton key and some really large earrings. The outside was a teensy bit ominous, a little house weatherbeaten and overgrown with weeds, far enough off the main road that it was eerily quiet. Alexis had a short moment of wishing she hadn't worn her Valentino heels as she picked her way up the gravel path to the door. Still, she never discounted the value of a nice stiletto just in case the house turned out to be actually ominous and not just country ominous, and someone needed to be stabbed.

She tapped on the door and it opened immediately, Twyla beaming at her from the other side. "Hey!" she said, stepping back to let Alexis in. "I'm so glad you found the place, it's a little, you know." She grimaced for a second, her smile returning just as quickly.

"Mm, so fun though!" Alexis said brightly. The interior was surprisingly modern, sparsely furnished in neutral colors, the only artwork some odd grey sculptural pieces in the corners. They reminded her of that one exhibit David had where the sculptures were all carved from foam and everyone threw darts at them while a string quartet played "U Can't Touch This" in a minor key. "What are, um, those?" Alexis said, gesturing at them.

"Oh, that's the soundproofing!" Twyla said. "This was my aunt's third husband's house, but she insisted on getting that put in before she'd move here with him. But he actually disappeared before they could move in, so it's been sitting empty."

"Disappeared?" Alexis said carefully. As someone who had been 'disappeared' by the secret police of two and a half different governments, the word made her a little wary. "Like, died?"

"Oh, no, I'm still Facebook friends with him, he lives in Manitoba now," Twyla said, leading Alexis back through the living room to a set of stairs leading down. It was lit by a single flickering lightbulb, bare and swaying slowly on a cord. "He's a magician? So he couldn't stay around after he did his disappearing act, it would spoil the stage magic. But anyway, all the soundproofing does make this the perfect place for audio recording!"

"Mm, totally." She started carefully down the stairs, mindful not to catch her heels. 

"We've actually used it as a recording studio before," Twyla said. "You remember Bill, right?"

"Mm, mm hm." She did not.

Twyla paused halfway down and looked up at her. She looked different from this angle, somehow—her eyelashes looked longer, maybe, her chin more pointed, her lips— "From that morning show Jocelyn and Roland did? Bill was the camera guy?" 

"Oh my god," Alexis said involuntarily. "I'd actually managed to forget about that, so, thank you for that memory." The third step creaked loudly as she stepped down, which was super rude. "Jocelyn gave me extra credit for being a guest on that. Bill, totally, poor Bill. How's Bill?"

"He's great, actually, that's what I was saying. He recorded his urban fantasy audio play here, and it actually got optioned by Ru Paul last month? So I like to think there's a little luck in this studio." Twyla tilted her head to grin up behind her at Alexis, and Alexis had to smile back.

"So who's our first interview?"

"Hello, princess." Ronnie was seated at the little table in the middle of the room, legs stretched out beneath it, arms crossed, a microphone in front of her.

"Oh, Ronnie!" Alexis said, smiling wide. She had maybe been avoiding Ronnie since her community service ended, just a little. She was sure Ronnie was charmed by her, somewhere deep down. Very deep down. "Wow, this is going to be such a special interview. So much to hear about, about town council, and constructing... things... and... all the other stuff you do, definitely."

" _You're_ going to be interviewing me?" Ronnie's tone was even, but Alexis had to work to keep the smile from shriveling off her face.

"Mm, nope, that's Twyla!"

"You take turns, then?"

"Uh huh, mm, actually," Alexis said, her smile edging towards a rictus, "Twyla always does the interviewing. Is going to do the interviewing, we haven't really started, you're the first, but Twyla is—"

"So what do you do?" The tilt of Ronnie's chin expressed more skepticism than the time Richard Dawkins had followed her around Cameron Diaz's nondenominational Superbowl party for two hours.

"I'm the producer!" Alexis said, with all the confidence that had gotten her into a million problems. _Out of_ , out of a million problems.

"Uh huh," Ronnie nodded. "What do you... produce?"

"Mm hm, yep, well, what I do is I—I sit in that little booth, right over—" Alexis looked around wildly. "Right over there! And I'm just going to go do that, now, thank you so much, Ronnie, can't wait for the, um, the interview, okay."

She closed the door to the small sound booth behind her and slid into the chair with a small sigh of relief. Ugh, she didn't know why she let Ronnie get to her like that. She eyed the mixing board. It was a Behringer Xenyx, just like the one she'd used DJing at Gigi Hadid's yacht naming party, so there'd be no problem here. She put the headphones on, careful of her hair, just in time for Ronnie to lean over to Twyla and say, "—sure you want to do this? With _her_?"

"Ugh," Alexis said, and tapped the PA on. "I can hear you, you know."

"Sorry," Ronnie said. She didn't look sorry.

Twyla grimaced over at the booth window. She looked a little sorry.

"What's the name of this podcast, anyway?" Ronnie asked, turning away from Alexis.

"Oh," Twyla said, biting her lip. "Um, we haven't decided yet, actually."

"Figures," Ronnie said, with what Alexis felt was an unnecessary glance back at the sound booth.

"Okay, well, whatever," Alexis muttered, turning the mid levels up and the treble down a notch. "It works for a sound check, anyway. Okay, whenever you're ready, recording."

* * *

"I remember when you first moved here to Schitt's Creek, I was nine I think?"

"Yeah, that's right. Around that. I remember you, tiny little thing always hanging around the cafe with your ma."

"You gave me my first job, actually." 

"What? I didn't give you a—oh shit, that's right, I'd forgotten about that."

Laughter.

"You had me making cold calls for you! I had the phone book, and you had me go down the list of every homeowner in the county and ask if they needed any home repairs."

"Worked like a charm, too. I was all of twenty-five myself, just running on spit and hope, trying to get a business off the ground as the only Black female contractor in Elm County."

"That couldn't have been easy."

"Yeah, well, when you have to make it work, you have to make it work."

"And you made it work by paying me ten cents a call."

Laughter.

"Well, listen, it paid off! I got five new clients in the first month and paid off my truck three months later. You were a sharp little thing, you got a lot of people to give me a chance. And that's all I wanted."

"You were the first person who ever treated me like I was a real help, you know. Like I was worth something. You gave me a chance, too."

"Yeah, well." Throat clearing. "That's all people need sometimes, you know? Just a chance. I mean, some people need two, or three, or ten chances—some people you maybe need to hit them over the head with a chance. But you can't—if you don't have a chance, you don't have anything. So that's what I try to do. Give people a chance."

* * *

Later that week, hunched over her laptop with headphones wearing a worryingly permanent groove in her hair, trying to edit out the hundredth time Ronnie did that weird smacking thing with her lips, she wondered if Ronnie was right. _Are you sure you want to do this? With her?_ The sheer skepticism in the last word had maybe stung a little; sure, Ronnie hadn't seen Alexis at her best, but she'd thought— 

But it was just a fleeting worry. Clearly this was a great project for Twyla, who really super needed a confidence boost if she had fond memories of making cold calls as a pre-teen. And Twyla was great at this, obviously, at getting people to talk, open up, share the genuine parts of themselves that people usually let you pretend didn't exist. Ugh, Alexis was so glad she'd laid it out up front that she would never be interviewed. Anyway, Twyla could totally say something if she didn't want to do it, but obviously she did want to do it so Alexis wasn't going to let her back out of it, because Alexis was a good friend like that.

Still, a smidgeon of unease lingered. 

Or maybe that was just the scent of David's new tea tree cleanser. Woof.

* * *

"This is amazing," Twyla said, taking off the headphones and looking up at Alexis.

They were sitting in Alexis's room, Twyla at the table and Alexis sitting on her bed. Twyla had insisted on closing her eyes while she listened to the edited first episode. Alexis had flipped through a M'Lady magazine ("Is your relationship ON THE ROCKS? Which GEMSTONE is your boyfriend?") but had found herself sneaking looks at Twyla's face. Eventually she gave up and just stared. With her eyes closed, Twyla couldn't tell, so it wasn't embarrassing or weird. It was just that Twyla had so many different facial expressions. Her lips tightened or curled up at the corners, a divot appeared between her eyebrows and then smoothed out again, her nose scrunched up and her eyelids crinkled at the corners, even closed. Had she always had such an expressive face? Alexis tried to remember but all her memories of Twyla were just of her smiling. Hundreds of days, in hundreds of different situations, the Twyla in Alexis's memory looked at her across the counter or over a menu with the same warm, open eyes and gentle smile.

It took Alexis a second to realize Twyla was looking at her now with that same smile. She didn't seem to notice that Alexis had been staring. She just took off the headphones and told Alexis she was amazing.

"Yeah?" Alexis said, biting her lip. "I mean, yeah, definitely, of course it is! You did such a good job, Twy, you're a natural."

"No, I mean, this is amazing. I thought I was just chatting with Ronnie, and you made it into this—" Twyla gestured, as if unable to find words. "You just—found things I didn't even know were there. It means something."

"You really like it?" Alexis said, a little more sincerely than she meant to.

"I really, really like it," Twyla said. "I can't wait to make more episodes with you."

"Well. Good," Alexis said, and had to look away. She was really glad Twyla liked it. Obviously she was glad, because otherwise Twyla might have not wanted to keep making episodes, and this was such a good thing for them to do together. For Twyla, because Twyla was so great with people and more people needed to appreciate that. "Okay, um, I guess now all we need to do is get people to listen to it!" Alexis said. 

"Oh, that won't be a problem."

Alexis blinked at Twyla. "What?"

"My family will all listen, so, yeah."

"Right," Alexis said, and made an executive decision to just not worry about that right now. "Oh, and just one more thing. We need to pick a name."

* * *

~~Up a Creek with Twyla~~  
~~Stick a Paddle in Schitt's Creek~~

"Mm, okay, no, what we want is a name that's like, super cute and fun!" 

"The Super Cute Fun Podcast?" 

"Mm hm, mm hm, mm hm, um, no. No." 

~~Two in the creek~~  
~~Two in the bush~~

"Absolutely not."

"Something with both of our names? Like... the TwyLex Zone. I loved the Twilight Zone when I was a kid. My cousin's babysitter taught me history lessons the year I was homeschooled, and I found out later that everything he'd told me was actually a Twilight Zone episode. Those were really special times for us." 

~~Sands of Time~~  
~~In The Cafe~~  
Twyla's Cafe

* * *

"Thank you for coming on the show, Darlene!"

"Thank you for having me, Twyla, you're such a sweetheart to invite me. I heard all about it from your aunt's boyfriend's sister, you know, Maggie?"

"Oh gosh, Maggie has been so supportive. If you're listening, thank you, Maggie! Isn't Maggie related to you too, Darlene?"

"Now that you mention it, I think she is. She's my—let's see, now. She's my father's cousin's son's wife, so yes."

"Well, living in a town like this one, we both know a lot of our extended family, isn't that right?"

"Absolutely. It has good sides and bad sides, of course. There's definitely some folks I don't spend as much time with. I have one cousin who's a—" In a lowered voice: "a real pottymouth."

Laughter.

"I won't lie, it's a little difficult sometimes. Sometimes you, you know, maybe you walk into a store and you say your name and the store owner goes on a whole face journey. It's like they know you, even though you've never met, because they've met your family."

"Mm hm. How do you deal with that?"

"That's a good question." A pause. "I moved away for a year, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Went to college in Regina. I came back because... well, I had my reasons at the time, but in the end... You end up defining yourself by your family, by how you're different as much as by how you're the same. You have to. I am who I am because of the cousins I don't like as much as the cousins I do. In the end we all exist in context, in relationships with other people."

Softly: "Yes."

* * *

The next afternoon, at the cafe, Alexis called a business meeting. Twyla had said something or other about needing to work, but it was three in the afternoon and there were, like, three people in the entire cafe, and one of them was Dad, so basically nobody. And this was important. "Because the thing is, Twy," Alexis said, tapping her fingertip on the counter, "we could have the greatest podcast in the world and if no one listens to it, it won't matter. It's like, if a phone calls in a club, would anyone even hear it?"

"I think it's, 'if a tree falls in a forest,'" Twyla said. 

"Mm, okay," Alexis said kindly. "The point is, we need to get the word out." Her mind was already working a mile a minute as she opened their download stats page on her laptop. Obviously they needed a Twitter, and probably an Instagram, she needed to start taking photos during interviews, maybe they could do a viral—

"Is three hundred pretty low?" Twyla said, looking over her shoulder.

Alexis stared at the laptop. "No," she said slowly. "No, that's—I mean, for a brand new podcast, that's actually—" She clicked into the details. Two hundred and eighty-six downloads for the first episode, three hundred and twelve for the second. "That's actually really, really good."

"Good," Twyla said, satisfied. She was still leaning over Alexis's shoulder. Her hair smelled really good. "I knew they'd come through for me."

"Who?" Alexis felt like her thoughts were caught in honey. Which was kind of what Twyla's hair smelled like, maybe meadowfoam honey, or marshmallow, or— She pulled her thoughts forcibly back.

"My family," Twyla was saying. "I told you I'd ask them to listen."

"Right." Alexis cleared her throat. "How many people are in your family?"

"Counting third cousins?" Twyla squinted up at the ceiling. "At least two hundred, but Bobby got married last month, and Deb had another baby, although I don't think she's listening to podcasts on her own yet." She grinned at Alexis. "But I'll ask Deb to play it for her anyway."

* * *

"So what have you been up to lately, Ray?"

"I have been so busy. I launched my new combination pottery painting and personal chef business, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't! How did you come up with that idea?"

"Oh, it's all about knowing the needs of the local market. And I've expanded my closet organization business into a pet clothing organization as well."

"Ah. Wow. And there's a local market for that?"

"Well, to be honest, I have not yet had any customers. But that is why I was so excited to come on your show. And also because I enjoy chatting with you, of course."

"How many businesses do you have now?"

"Oh, I lost count years ago! Do you know, I've never shut down a business? Except for my business that assists small businesses with closing down, of course. That has actually been quite successful."

"Do you ever get discouraged? I mean, if you don't get customers right away?"

"No, never. Or not recently. I suppose when I was a younger man, there were a few times when I wondered whether it was worth it, whether I was taking too many risks. I remember when I started my window treatment supply business, 50 Shades of Ray, I had the hardest time reaching customers! And there I was with all those window blinds just stacked in my house."

"But then you found a buyer?"

"Oh no, not for most of them. I did sell quite a few to Roland and Jocelyn, although for some reason they've never put them on their windows. But the point is, it's always worthwhile to take a risk and try something new."

"Wow, Ray. That is such good advice."

"Like running advertisements on your podcast. You might want to start thinking about that, Twyla, there's quite a market for podcast advertisements these days. I would be happy to assist you, for a very small commission."

"Ah, yes, you should definitely talk to our producer about that. Sometime."

* * *

Twyla was sitting at the motel room table, headphones on, eyes closed, and Alexis was staring at her. She had a magazine in one hand, but she wasn't even pretending to look at it. This had become their routine, after Alexis finished editing every episode. Twyla would come over, and put on the headphones, and close her eyes, and Alexis would sprawl on her bed and watch her. She couldn't usually tell where Twyla was in the episode based on how her face changed, but she could always tell when she got to the end, the one part that Alexis allowed her own voice on tape: "This has been an Alexis Rose and Twyla Sands production, produced by Alexis Rose, of Alexis Rose Productions. Listen, subscribe, and moisturize!"

Alexis quickly looked down at her magazine just before Twyla took her headphones off. "Is It A Crush Or Something More??" the article headline shrieked. She flipped it closed. "You liked it?" she said casually.

"I loved it," Twyla said, the way she always did. "I felt so awkward, the way Ray kept trying to advertise his businesses, and you made it sound like there was so much more to it than that."

Alexis frowned. "That's all you, girl." She looked up at Twyla, who was biting her lower lip and didn't look convinced. Alexis tried to think of the right words to tell her, how Twyla unerringly found the heart of every person she talked to, and Alexis only cut the dead air away. But that was impossible to say. "Anyway, Ray kind of had a point."

"Oh?"

"We should start advertising. Normally we wouldn't have much of a market share until we're at a thousand downloads per episode at least, but I've been putting out some feelers and I think we have a couple early contenders."

"Oh," Twyla said, her eyes lighting up. "Could we get that website those cute brothers advertised on their podcast, what was it called?"

"I don't know," Alexis said quellingly, knowing very well what Twyla meant.

"Extreme Restraints, right? I have to say, that product placement really worked for me. When they had that advertisement I went to that website right away and I ended up getting—"

"Okay, I will definitely follow up on that," Alexis interrupted, absolutely not planning to follow up on that, because she seriously could not have a professional business conversation with Twyla while imagining her trying out products she bought at— no. Just no. Not right then, anyway. "Anyway, we're not big enough—I mean, we don't have enough downloads to get that kind of placement—advertisement! Right now."

"Oh," Twyla said. "Well, maybe later."

"Mm hm, later, for sure." Alexis nodded a lot.

* * *

"George, you'd already been cooking at Cafe Tropical for quite a while when I started working there."

"That's right."

"How did you get the job there? Had you been a cook somewhere else before?"

"Well, no. I guess I kind of learned on the job, so to speak. I always liked making a mess in the kitchen, though—made pancakes for my brothers and sisters, that sort of thing."

"You liked cooking."

"I did. I do like cooking. It's something special. Folks come in hungry, and they leave full. It's a little miracle, you know? I remember one day in high school we learned about entropy, how everything breaks down and comes to a stop. Feeding people is the opposite of that. It means they can keep going, just a bit longer."

"Wow, George. That's very thoughtful."

"I know it's a little silly, honestly. I'm not even a very good cook."

"Oh, no, you're—"

"It's fine, Twyla, I know I'm not. My sushi doesn't look like the sushi on TV. But folks eat what you put in front of them, and that's good enough for me."

"Well, I know I for one am alway happy to eat your cooking, George. Speaking of food, what I always like when I eat food is a nice cup of tea. If you're in the mood for tea, try out Mr. Hockley's tea. He's got a variety for whatever you need, whether it's tea to calm you down, or to boost your creativity. That must have caffeine in it. You can buy direct at his farm, cash only, just fifteen miles down the main road, pull off just past the third greenhouse. If you buy three bags of tea, you get a free snack pack to go with! Who doesn't love snacks. And while you're there, why not pick out a tomato grow kit? It comes with everything you need to grow your own tomatoes, right in the comfort of your own home. It even includes the special lights you need for starts! Gosh, I love a good homegrown tomato, don't you, George?"

A small cough. "Yes. Tomatoes."

* * *

Before the door of the little house was even all the way open, Twyla said, "So there's a problem."

"Was it the feds? Because I hope you didn't say anything, I can call some people but if you've incriminated yourself that really limits my options."

"I haven't incriminated myself to the feds since I was nine years old," Twyla snapped.

Alexis stopped scrolling through her phone contacts and looked up, taken aback. She didn't think she'd ever heard Twyla use that tone of voice.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Twyla said, apparently seeing something in Alexis's face. She sighed and rubbed the side of her forehead. "I'm just a little stressed. I've just had a lot on my mind lately, and then this... You'd better come in." She stepped back to let Alexis in.

"It's not even that big a deal really," Twyla explained as Alexis followed her down the stairs to the now-familiar soundproofed basement. "I was going to interview Gwen today, but she just called a second ago to say she can't make it because she's going to the Thornton Beaver Festival. And I'm sorry you came all the way out here for nothing, but I guess we'll just have to reschedule, except tomorrow I've got Jazzagals rehearsal, and Thursday I'm covering for George while he reupholsters his sofa, and Friday I told Jocelyn I'd help her set up for Roland's annual barrel and cheese wheel race, and I'm just—" 

Alexis felt something snap inside her as Twyla's voice broke. It was suddenly completely impossible that Twyla, Twyla who saw the good in everyone and brought it out into the light so everyone else could see it too, cheerful sunshine Twyla, could be allowed to be remotely unhappy. "I can do it," she said.

Twyla turned around. Alexis wanted to take it back, but also she didn't want to.

"Oh, that's—really?" Twyla said. She looked... surprised. Worried. Pleased. "You don't have to, I could—I could call Ray in again, I'm sure he'd be happy to—"

"No," Alexis said, trying to sound sure of herself. She stepped down the last stair. Twyla didn't move back, just tilted her face up. Alexis was so close to her. "We can't have repeat interviews at this stage in the game, we're just building our audience, variety is the spice of life, something like that, so we should just, I can just start it recording, I'll just go—" Alexis banged her elbow on the doorframe as she backed into the sound booth, hopefully coming across as something slightly closer to a graceful retreat than outright fleeing.

She quickly set the audio levels and turned on the recording. Editing would be hell without her usual notes, but she could fix everything in post. She let herself close her eyes for the span of one deep breath. This would be fine. It was just Twyla. Just a conversation with Twyla, not a media interview, or paparazzi, or someone with a hidden mic. She could do this for Twyla. She took one more deep breath, then one more, and then she really had to go out there and do this.

* * *

Alexis sat at the table, smoothing out her skirt. She moved the microphone a little closer, wincing at the scratching noise as it moved across the table. She'd have to edit that out later. Then she realized she was tapping her fingers on the table, fuck, more editing. She clutched her hands in her lap.

"It's just me," Twyla said softly, and Alexis looked up at the echo of her earlier thoughts. Twyla smiled at her. 

Alexis nodded, and cleared her throat. "Okay," she said. "I'm ready."

Twyla nodded back, her face full of confidence and belief, and launched right into it. "Welcome to Twyla's Cafe. I'm your host, Twyla, and we've got an extra special guest today. Usually she's behind the soundboard, but today we'll be hearing from her directly—it's our producer, Alexis Rose."

"I'm glad to be here, Twy," Alexis lied, her voice only cracking a little.

"Of all our guests so far, Alexis is the most recent transplant to the fertile ground of Schitt's Creek." Twyla winked, ludicrously. Alexis tried to hide her grimace. "Is this the smallest town you've ever been in?"

Alexis searched Twyla's face, trying to see what she was after. Twyla's interviews always uncovered something about her guests; some emotion, something genuine and from the heart, and Alexis was not up for that. Not today, not with the desire to keep Twyla from ever being unhappy burning in her throat, sitting so close that if Alexis moved just a bit, their feet would touch.

But Twyla's face was open and curious, as if there was nothing unusual in Alexis hesitating over the simplest question. As if anything Alexis said would be just fine.

"No," Alexis said slowly. "I spent ten days in a town with sixty-eight people in it, in Arizona? This was right after John Malkovich filmed _Secretariat_ so he insisted we ride horses from Las Vegas to Sedona, but then he got saddle sores and we had to hole up in Hackberry for a week."

After that, it was easy. The microphones didn't matter; the part of Alexis's brain that was always tracking scrapes, lip smacks, filler words she'd need to edit out, faded away. One story led to another. Alexis told Twyla about the time she went to Kristen Stewart's party with one of the Hanson brothers and left with a different one, and the time she smuggled Emily across the North Vietnam border, and the time she played pool for her life in a Ugandan diamond smuggler's villa. Then she told Twyla about the time she was hospitalized for dehydration after she had to parachute out of a plane outside of Khartoum, and then about how she got the scar on her left hip, which even David didn't know about.

Twyla didn't blink. Twyla didn't look away. Twyla nodded, and smiled at Alexis, and said, "And you went back for her bag even after that? That took a lot of..." Twyla paused to search for a word. Alexis waited for her to say bravery, or stupidity, but Twyla said, "Love," and Alexis lost her breath.

"I—I mean," she stuttered. "It was just—I wanted—I guess."

"And hope," Twyla added. "To try again, after everything that's happened to you."

Alexis nodded. She desperately wanted to ask Twyla, _what about you? Is there anything you hope for, right now? Anything you love? Anyone you love? Maybe, me?_ She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Twyla's head tilted. "What about now?" she asked, and her eyes were so green. "Is there anything here, in Schitt's Creek, that makes you feel love, and hope?"

Alexis nodded. She still couldn't speak. She thought about bravery, and stupidity, and love, and hope, and she pushed her microphone to the side stood up, leaned over the table, and kissed Twyla.

* * *

That episode was their first to break a thousand downloads.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic of] Twyla's Cafe Podcast, An Alexis Rose Production, Produced by Alexis Rose (with help from Twyla), by whetherwoman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28549269) by [TheOneCalledEli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneCalledEli/pseuds/TheOneCalledEli)




End file.
